Forgive Me Father
by MadameCissy
Summary: Missing scenes from after the shooting at the courthouse. Sharon reflects on her actions and tries to comprehend what it is she has done and how this may change her. (spoilers for 5x11 White Lies prt1).
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** Missing scenes from after the shooting at the courthouse. Sharon reflects on her actions and tries to comprehend what it is she has done and how this may change her. (spoilers for 5x11 White Lies prt1)

 **Rating:** K+

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Major Crimes or any of its characters.

 **Note:** I intend to write missing scenes for the upcoming two episodes too. They will be posted as additional chapters to this story.

* * *

They trained for this. Attended lectures, visited psychiatrists. But nothing, _nothing_ , could truly bring across the feeling of knowing you have fired a gun at another human being and stood over them as they fought a battle of life and death. Nothing prepared you for the tornado of emotions that ripped through you in those first few seconds after the last shot rings out and there was not a single thing more deafening than the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Sharon looked down at her hands; those hands had pulled the trigger, had forever changed the course of a person's life. Even if Dwight Darnell did survive, everything had changed.

She had replayed the events over and over again in her head throughout the interview. She spoke calmly and with a clear voice but sometimes she caught herself as her tone shifted, hinting at the turmoil simmering underneath. She knew the questions they would ask her but not even having written them herself changed the way she felt about answering them. The two detectives sitting across the table from her had joined FID after her transfer to Major Crimes but Sharon could tell there was a sense of disbelief in the two men that they found themselves sitting in an interview with Sharon Raydor.

"Thank you, Captain," the younger of the two detectives said. "That will be all."

Sharon stood up, straightened her blazer and smoothed out her skirt and gave a quick nod. "Thank you, Detective." Green eyes had inexplicably hardened. "Am I correct in assuming there will be a meeting with Behavioural Sciences tomorrow morning?"

"Ten am tomorrow morning, Ma'am."

"Thank you."

The sound of her heels clicking against the floor had never felt hollower when she closed the interview door behind her and found herself standing in an all too familiar corridor. She hadn't set foot in here since transferring to Major Crimes and Sharon shivered involuntarily before starting down the corridor in the direction of the elevators. She pressed the button.

In the back of her mind she could still hear Morales' voice as he pleaded for Assistant Chief Taylor to keep breathing. She could still hear Amy's voice as she spoke calmly to the injured man, soothing him in what turned out to be his last moments. She could still smell the blood, the scent of iron had filled the courtroom mere moments after the shooting, and Sharon's stomach turned. The frantic voice of Morales as he counted in between compressions in a desperate attempt to keep Russell Taylor alive faded out as the elevator doors opened and Sharon looked up into an unexpected but familiar face. Green eyes met brown.

For a moment she was struck by the contrast. Only three hours earlier she had watched how life faded from Russel Taylor's eyes. Moments before that she had stared into the evil that lived inside Dwight Darnell's. And now she was looking up into eyes filled with kindness. Something just didn't fit.

"Deputy Chief Howard."

"Captain Raydor." A second's pause. Long enough for her to register the defeat in his voice that she knew he didn't want her to hear. "Sharon."

"How did it go?" Sharon asked, referring to the press conference.

"About what you'd expect," Fritz answered. He looked at Sharon a little more closely. She looked tired, he thought. Like a shadow had settled around her. "How are you feeling?"

Sharon swallowed. The bitterness she tasted in the back of her throat didn't go away. Neither did the sensation of something welling up inside of her. Something dark and cold. It crept into her chest, took possession of her in a way that was both frightening and soothing. When she spoke, her words were choppy and carried an echo of anger and frustration.

"Five people died. I don't think there is a word to describe that feeling."

"More people would have died if you hadn't taken Darnell out." Fritz's eyes narrowed a little. There was something striking about seeing Sharon Raydor like this. He had never seen her face as dark as it was now. "You yourself would most likely not be standing here."

He put a hand on her shoulder. A simple touch. Only for a second or two. But it startled her and Sharon took a step back. The adrenaline rush she felt was shocking. Fight or flight. A hand on her shoulder had reminded just how on edge she still was, no matter how calm she appeared. It was clear Fritz had noticed the change too because his features softened and Sharon saw the concern.

"Sharon?" Fritz called her name gently.

She didn't acknowledge him.

"Sharon, there's blood on your face."

Her head snapped up and she stared up at him, wide eyed. "What?"

"Right here…" Fritz pointed to his own forehead.

Sharon reached to touch her face but her fingers didn't quite make contact with her skin. "Oh." She shook her head, confused. She suddenly felt sick. Disgusted. She knew the blood didn't belong to Russel Taylor. "I'm sorry… I'll just go…"

She turned around and headed back down the hall in the direction she had just come, blindly finding her way to the ladies room. Hesitantly she approached the mirror, almost afraid to face her own reflection. When she looked up and stared at herself, all her features emphasised by the harsh, unforgiving lighting, she saw the blood on her forehead. There it was. A remnant of Dwight Darnell. On her skin.

For a second she thought she might actually vomit.

Sharon opened the tap, grabbed a paper towel from the dispenser and wet it before putting it against her forehead and scrubbing away the blood. The speck was small but it felt bigger. When she put the paper towel down, her forehead was a little red from where she had scrubbed it but the blood was gone. Repulsion coursed through her veins and her stomach turned. For a second she saw Darnell's twisted smile, again felt the way her finger had tensed around the trigger. But then she turned around, threw the paper towel in the trash and took a deep breath.

When she made her way back to the elevator she saw Fritz was still waiting for her. He was leaning against a wall, eyes closed. He looked up when he heard her approach, seemed to almost sense Sharon's cold and distant demeanour. She saw his eyes dart to her forehead.

"You did what you had to do," he emphasised. "You do know that, don't you?"

"Be that as it may," Sharon answered, reaching out a hand to stop the elevator doors from sliding shut before she had chance to step inside. "It doesn't change what happened."

"No, it doesn't," Fritz agreed. "But your actions saved lives, Captain." He took a step back so that the elevator doors could close. His brown eyes caught Sharon's green at the last second. "Remember that when you're staring up at the ceiling in the dark tonight. Mothers and fathers got to go home to their children today because of you."

Sharon averted her eyes and stared down at the floor. "But Chief Taylor did not."

The doors closed and she found herself alone.

Silence wasn't her friend today. As soon as the elevator started moving, she heard the voices again. Heard her own voice even if she couldn't remember what it was she'd said. She'd stood next to Morales for a few moments, until it became clear there was nothing he could do for Taylor. His body, stripped from its shirt by Morales and covered in blood, the golden badge he had worn with pride covered in the blood lying discarded on the floor, was an image that would be imprinted in her mind for the rest of her life.

The doors opened again, revealing the familiar corridor that led to the interview rooms and the Major Crimes bullpen. Sharon instinctively headed for the interview rooms first and upon entering found herself faced with several sets of eyes, all wondering the same thing. Andy asked the question and her answer was short. A single warning to keep a distance.

Her mind was sharp and she picked up on the things the clerk said. The answers alarmed her and Sharon realised that what they were facing was bigger than she had first imagined. When she made her way into the Murder Room after the interview she could feel people's eyes on her. She tried not to think about what they saw when they looked at her.

When Provenza answered the call from Amy and told her Dr Joe would most likely be ok, Sharon knew there was something he wasn't telling her. And the fact she felt nothing, nothing, when he told her that Dwight Darnell was dead, unnerved her. How was it possible she felt no guilt or remorse over the fact she had killed a man?

What did that make her?

"Captain, you had to shoot the guy." Provenza's words sounded distant, like they were coming from somewhere else.

Her own words sounded hollow. Void of anything. No guilt. No remorse. The words were constricted and she looked up at Provenza with a hardened, distant look in her eyes.

"That's not the problem, Lieutenant. What I'm finding difficult is that I took a human life today… And I still can't find a single part of me that feels bad about it."

She turned around and stepped into her office, about to face the pain she knew today had caused to Rusty. She drew the blinds. Not so that she couldn't see people but so that people couldn't see her.

~()~

Sharon closed the front door behind her, dropped her keys in the bowl on the side table, put down her purse and took off her shoes. She shrugged herself out of her blazer and barefoot, she padded into the living room. Passing the mirror, she caught sight of her own reflection and she paused for just a moment. Staring back at her was a woman she only vaguely recognised.

Rusty sat on the couch but stood up when he heard Sharon come in. He looked almost skittish, Sharon thought. Today had impacted greatly on him and she could see the worry flash through his eyes when he looked at her. She wanted to reassure him but in that moment, she had nothing to give. She silently shook her head, averted her eyes and just stared at the floor.

"I made dinner," Rusty offered. He sounded a little uncertain. "I left you a plate in the microwave."

Sharon wasn't hungry. She hadn't eaten since breakfast. But she nodded anyway. She knew Rusty knew Darnell was dead. He now stood in front of his mother in the knowledge that she had killed a man today. A bad man but a man nonetheless.

"I'm going to take a shower," Sharon said flatly and without looking at Rusty she turned back around and made her way to the bathroom.

She switched on the shower to let the water heat up and slowly got undressed. The blazer she had worn all day had hidden the blood stains on her shirt but now that she held the fabric in her hands, she couldn't hide them any longer. Russel Taylor's blood was on her clothes. She had watched a man die today, a man she considered a friend, and all she had left of that moment were the images and voices in her head and the dried blood stains on her shirt.

She didn't bother dropping the shirt in the hamper. Blood didn't wash out well and even if it did, she wouldn't be able to wear this shirt ever again anyway. She discarded it on the floor and turned to the mirror. Her gaze focused on her forehead, on the exact same spot where Dwight Darnell's blood had been. It wasn't there anymore but she could still see it.

Sharon placed the remainder of her clothing in the hamper and stepped under the hot spray of the shower. The warm water pounded down on her shoulders and back and she tilted her head back to let the water rain on her face. It cascaded down her cheeks like tears but no amount of water or soap could wash away the horrors of the day.

She scrubbed her skin until it was dark pink and she washed her hair three times but still Sharon did not feel clean. She felt tainted, marked, and when she finally switched the shower off and wrapped a light blue towel around herself, Sharon felt no better than she did before. She dried her hair so it wasn't dripping anymore and went to her bedroom. She chose a pair of simple black yoga pants and a sweater and left her hair falling wet down her shoulders. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared blindly at her alarm clock. In two hours and seventeen minutes this day would be over.

The soft knock on her door made Sharon look up. "Come in."

Rusty hesitantly stepped into the bedroom. He held Sharon's favourite tea cup in his hand and flashed a nervous smile. He remembered what Provenza had said. About needing to be his mother's rock. He had no idea how to do that, or how to even handle his own sense of grief and loss, but something inside him had told him to make some tea.

"Here," he said as he handed the cup to Sharon.

Sharon went to take the cup with both hands but as she reached for it, she noticed her hands were shaking. Rusty, still standing in front of her, saw it too. For a moment he panicked. Never before had he seen his mother's hands shake like that. She looked so calm but it was clear that was not at all how she felt. Sharon struggled to hold the cup and some of the hot chamomile tea spilled onto the bed sheets.

Rusty intervened and gently took the cup from Sharon's shaking hands and placed it on the nightstand. He didn't know what to say, couldn't find the right words, so instead he slowly sat down next to Sharon on the bed. She wasn't looking at him. She stared at the floor but Rusty didn't think she was actually seeing anything at all. Her mind was in another place.

Without thinking, Rusty covered his mother's hand with his own. "I'm sorry about Chief Taylor."

Sharon's voice broke when she looked up at Rusty. Her eyes had lost their shine. She looked tired and despite the hard and distant exterior she put on, Rusty could see she was fragile. She brought her hands up to her chest, willing them to stop shaking. They didn't.

"Me too," she barely whispered.

Rusty didn't wait for her to say anything more but instead wrapped both his arms around Sharon, pulling her lovingly into an embrace. She didn't hug him back, just rested herself against him, placed her head on his shoulder and Rusty clung on even tighter. Sharon was still shaking. He could feel it and although he didn't know what it was she needed from him in the days ahead right now, Rusty knew Sharon needed to be held.. He would hold her for as long as she needed him to.

"We'll figure it out," he whispered into her ear. "It's all going to be okay."

Sharon let her eyes fall shut, silently hoping that he was right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary:** Missing scenes from the episode White Lies prt 2, focusing on Sharon's confession and her dealing with her emotions in the aftermath of the shooting. (spoilers for 5x11 and 5x12)

 **Rating:** K+

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Major Crimes or any of its characters.

 **Note:** There will be a missing scenes one shot for the third episode too. My apologies for this one being so late. Real life and being an adult can be a bit of a pain.

 **Note 2:** To Kitty, without whom I couldn't write any of this.. Thank you for always being there and for always having the best ideas.

* * *

Sharon stood outside the church in the early afternoon sunshine, letting it warm up her cold hands for a little before climbing the steps to the big wooden doors. Stepping inside the church, smelling that familiar scent, instantly brought her a sense of safety and when she didn't jump as the heavy door fell shut behind her with a rather loud 'bang', she knew she had done the right thing by coming here.

She walked down the aisle in between the rows of pews and made a cross when she reached the altar at the front before seeking out an empty pew. As she'd walked down she had observed only four other people sitting in silence, their heads bowed and hands folded. None of them had looked up when Sharon walked past. Right now she was as undescriptive as they were.

She looked up at the large cross behind the altar. She had seen this particular one so many times. In fact she had only seen it last Sunday when she had been here for Mass. It looked different now, she thought. But everything looked different in the current light and Sharon struggled to really see clearly.

Bowing her head and folding her hands in prayer, Sharon willed her mind to become empty. She had hoped that here, in the House of God, she would find some of the silence she was so desperately seeking but when she closed her eyes, all she saw was Dwight Darnell's body at her feet with that taunting smirk still on his face and all she heard was the sound of gunshots ringing out.

Sharon rested her folded hands on the back of the pew in front of her and squeezed her eyes even tighter shut. She had come here because she so desperately craved…. Something. She didn't quite have the words for it. But now that she sat here she felt as empty as she had done when she first climbed the marble steps outside. If she couldn't find solace here, surrounded by His presence, where was she going to find it?

When she heard someone stand up behind her, Sharon looked up and over her shoulder. For a moment she made eye contact with the man who had been sitting four rows behind her. He gave her a friendly nod and she nodded in return before also standing. But instead of leaving she walked over to the right side of the church. There, outside the confessional, she hesitated. Never before had she hesitated about doing this, never before had it felt so…. Different.

When she eventually stepped inside and sat down, welcoming the darkness that surrounded her, Sharon placed her hands in her lap and swallowed. It had been a little while since she had last been here. She'd promised she would come back sooner but life had a way of catching up with her sometimes and she'd missed Mass two weeks in a row before finally making it last Sunday.

Confession was a way for her to rationalise her thoughts, a way for her to face her demons and talk about the things inside her head she couldn't share with anyone else. Confession was what helped her to keep her humanity after being faced with the depravity of mankind on a daily basis. It was where she confessed the guilt she felt towards her children, how they had missed out when they were growing up, and the way she sometimes felt like a failure at work when she couldn't solve a case the way she wanted.

She took a deep breath, then another. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Then she heard herself speak. There, in the shadows of the confessional, she spoke the words that had been haunting her ever since pulling the trigger. One word in particular.

"Bless me Father for I have sinned."

 _Sinned._

It echoed around in her head.

 _S_ he'd heard that word so often when she was a little girl. Less so now that she was a grown woman but its meaning was well ingrained in her. She tried to live by the rules as best as she could and she respected them, admired them even, and to have strayed… It was what had driven her to this moment, in the middle of a working day, when halfway across town her Division was trying to solve one of the most despicable crimes they had ever witnessed. It was that knowledge of having sinned, of having betrayed something that meant so much to her, that had led her into the sanctuary of the confessional.

"It has been three weeks since my last confession and in that time I have lied four times and started cohabitating with a man to whom I am not married."

'Anything else' was the question the priest asked her. And there, with God as her witness, Sharon Raydor confessed to the one thing she thought she never would.

"I committed a mortal sin."

~()~

Sharon quietly closed the door to the condo behind her, slipped her keys back in her purse and took off her shoes. It was almost midnight and she was glad to finally be home. Barefoot she padded into the living room and realised that one of the lights was still on and she could hear something in the kitchen. A cupboard was being opened, then the tap ran.

"Rusty?" Sharon called and moments later, a head poked around the kitchen wall.

"Sharon, hi," Gus smiled. "Sorry, did I scare you?"

Sharon smiled when she saw her son's boyfriend and shook her head. She shrugged herself out of her blazer and draped it over the back of the couch. "No, not at all. I just wasn't expecting anyone to still be up at this time. Is Andy home yet?"

"He went to bed an hour ago. I just came to get a glass of water," Gus answered as he held up the glass. He watched Sharon for a moment, took in the tired expression on her face, the dark circles beginning to form around her eyes. Even in the dim light of the kitchen he could see the deep lines of grief etched across her face. "Would you like me to get you something? Water? Wine?"

"Wine, please," Sharon replied and sank down on one of the chairs at the dining table. She cradled her head in her hands and listened as Gus made his way around the kitchen. Moments later he put a half full wine glass in front of her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Sharon's head whipped up, startled, but she almost instantly relaxed again.

"You look tired," Gus said as he went to sit down at the table too. His face changed and his eyes reflected sadness. "I'm so sorry about Chief Taylor and Doctor Joe. They were both good men."

Sharon instinctively opened her mouth to tell Gus that Doctor Joe wasn't dead but then remembered that Gus didn't know that yet. Not that she didn't trust him but the less people knew, the better. She felt a little pride well up that Rusty had managed to keep this secret because she knew it had to be hard for him to lie to Gus. Instead of speaking she just picked up her wine, took a small sip and let the bittersweet taste of alcohol burn down her throat.

"Can I say something?" Gus asked. There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, like he wasn't quite sure if he had the right to say anything at all.

"Of course." Sharon looked at the young man sitting across the table from her. The way Gus had come into their lives was nothing short of unusual and it had taken her a little while to see how he and Rusty fitted together but she could see it now. There were moments where she really saw the influence Gus had on Rusty shine through.

Gus shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then stared at his hands as he laid them flat on the table. Sharon could tell he was nervous and she felt a sense of warmth that he felt comfortable enough to share his worries with her.

"I don't think Rusty is coping well with Dr Joe's death and I don't know what I can do to help him," Gus began. "We were watching a movie earlier and I tried to talk to him about it but he seems so closed off, so distant. Like he's in denial. And sometimes I just don't know how to talk to him."

Realising they were suddenly in dangerous territory, Sharon's defences went back up. "What did Rusty say?" she carefully asked.

Gus looked up. "That I had to trust him."

Sharon worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment but then nodded. She realised Rusty had to be in a difficult position not being able to tell Gus the truth. "Trust him," was all she said. "Trust him and just be there for him." She paused, fixed her eyes on the wineglass in her hand again. "It's been a rough couple of days." She watched the liquid swirl around inside the glass. "And it's only going to get worse."

"Rusty's worried about you," Gus admitted, his mind drifting back to what Rusty had said earlier that night. He'd seen the concern in Rusty's eyes, had heard the shift in his voice when he talked about how the shooting had affected Sharon.

Sharon looked at Gus, frowning a little. "What do you mean?"

"He mentioned something about you struggling with shooting that guy," Gus said. There wasn't a hint of judgement in his voice, only kindness. In that moment Sharon remembered why she felt he was so good for Rusty. He saw things Rusty often didn't see. Gus' kind brown eyes rested on Sharon. "I'm sure I'm not the first one to tell you that you did what you had to do."

"It's not exactly that black and white I'm afraid," Sharon answered and picked up her glass. She stared at the light coloured liquid inside it. Everything felt different since those fateful moments in the courthouse. Everything.

"It's a whole lot of grey."

"I won't say that I understand because I don't, but I will say that even amongst the shades of grey, some things are lighter than others," Gus said. "Maybe you should just focus on that."

Sharon smiled at him. "Thank you, Gus. And thank you for the wine." She rubbed her forehead. The headache was building behind her eyes and she would need to find the bottle of pills she kept in her bedside drawer to help her sleep tonight. "It's been a long day and I'm tired. Would you mind terribly if I took this with me and went to bed?"

Gus just nodded. "Of course not. You look like you could use the sleep. Goodnight, Sharon"

"Goodnight, Gus."

Sharon stood up and as she did, Gus did too.

His embrace was unexpected and for a moment Sharon stiffened but then she relaxed. Only now that someone reached out to her did she realise just how much she had wanted a moment like this; a moment where someone silently reassured her, even if she felt she didn't deserve it. So she let her arms slip around Gus' shoulders and hugged him back.

When he let go of her and took a step back, their eyes briefly met. Neither spoke but Sharon just smiled before taking her glass and carrying it with her to the bedroom. As she walked down the hall, she saw the door to Rusty's bedroom was open. Sharon stopped and peered through the open door. The only light came from the small lamp on the nightstand, casting a faint yellow glow around the room. She expected to see Rusty sitting up with his laptop but to her surprise, she saw he was asleep, curled up on his side, the covers barely covering his legs. He looked so peaceful, so carefree, and the sight of him brought tears to Sharon's eyes.

Years ago she used to stand in the bedrooms of Ricky and Emily the way she was right now and would watch them sleep. It was something she had continued to do even once they were teenagers and they needed her protection a little less than before. And now, she was doing it again. But with a different feeling. A feeling of wanting to reassure herself that she really had done the right thing, that she was _still_ doing the right thing.

And as she watched Rusty sleep, safe in the assurance that she would come home tonight and would be there for him to say 'good morning' to the next day, she knew she had.

~()~

She'd woken up with a knot in her stomach and no amount of coffee or comforting words from Andy could help calm her down. The thought of facing Wildred Darnell was unnerving and when Sharon laid eyes on the woman whose son she had killed, she was overwhelmed by feelings she couldn't name or identify. Sitting across from the woman, looking into her eyes and hearing her speak, hearing the emotions in her voice, stirred something inside her.

 _"_ _I understand…. I understand that you had to shoot him… I understand"_

The words broke something, opened up something Sharon wasn't sure she would be able to close again. It wasn't just the tears in Wildred Darnell's voice she heard… she recognised her own too. The longer she looked at the other woman, the more she saw fragments of her own feelings reflected in her eyes. In so many ways they were both being torn apart. Right now, Sharon didn't think there was anyone else who could relate to that feeling better than Wildred Darnell.

"Thank you."

And there it was. The final absolution. Not just from Wildred Darnell, not just from them sitting across from each other as mother to mother, but also from herself.

Leaving the interview room, Sharon let her breath escape. The world felt different in that very moment. _She_ felt different. Lighter. Like the shadows had been chased away. It was when she tasted the first tear on her lips that she turned around and quickly made her way back down the hall. By the time the door to the ladies' room had closed behind her, the tears were streaming down her face and Sharon stumbled over to the sink, grabbing the cool porcelain with both hands to steady herself.

It was as if someone had finally broken the damn inside of her and everything she had held on to for the last few hours and days found its way out. The grief, the anger, and the confusion over the fact she felt no guilt or remorse over what she had done. The tears fell down her cheeks and into the sink where they vanished down the drain.

Sharon cried big, ugly sobs, could almost feel the physical pain of her heart and soul being ripped open. Her shoulders shook, her hands trembled and she swayed slightly before tightening her grip on the sink. The tears blurred her vision and after a few moments in which she attempted to control her ragged breathing, Sharon let go of the sink to wipe at her eyes. Smudges of black mascara coated her fingers.

This was what she had become now; this was what pulling the trigger had done to her. It had brought her to this moment where she found herself falling apart in the bathroom crying tears she didn't think she'd ever shed. This would be the path she'd walk from here on out, knowing she had taken another man's life, even if he was a monster. She would have to reconcile that and right in this moment, nothing reminded her of that more than the black smudges across her fingers; her hands were tainted and she would never truly be able to wash it off.

In that instant the door opened and through her still blurred vision, Sharon recognised the outline of Amy in the mirror. Their gazes locked and for the longest moment they looked at each other.

Sharon wanted to say something, wanted to apologise for allowing Amy to see her like this because this was not how she wanted any one of her detectives to see her, this broken, but when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out.

Amy didn't speak, didn't even flinch when she realised she had walked in on an incredibly vulnerable and private moment. Sharon could see the split second of hesitation flash through Amy's eyes as she tried to decide between leaving and staying but then the younger detective stepped further into the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Amy crossed the small space until she reached Sharon. Then, without a single word, she placed a hand in the middle of Sharon's back and slowly began to rub small circles of comfort. They looked at each other for a moment longer in the mirror, confronted by the unexpected intimacy of this moment. Amy averted her eyes then, allowing them both the quiet and silent comfort they needed to find. Tears continued to slide down Sharon's cheeks and it was only when she heard a soft sob behind her that she realised that Amy was crying too.

In that moment, their pain brutally highlighted by the harsh white artificial light over their heads, they found comfort and solace in each other's company as they finally allowed themselves to feel their own and each other's grief and pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary:** Missing scenes from the episode White Lies prt 2, focusing on Sharon's confession and her dealing with her emotions in the aftermath of the shooting. (spoilers for 5x11 5x12 and 5x13)

 **Rating:** K+

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Major Crimes or any of its characters.

 **Note:** My apologies for this one being so late. Real life and being an adult can be a bit of a pain.

* * *

Sharon stared at her reflection. The women's locker room was just down the hall from the Major Crimes Murder Room. She didn't come here often, in fact it had been months since she'd last been here, but this was where she kept her vest and as she tightened the last strap over her shoulder, she continued to look at herself in the small mirror on the inside of the locker door. It had taken time but she started to recognise the woman looking back at her again.

Running her hands along the strong, heavy material of her bullet proof vest, Sharon took a deep breath. She checked her gun on her hip, clipped her badge to her belt and ran her fingers through her hair. She felt the adrenaline in her veins. They were getting close; she could almost feel the end of this case but she was still grasping at something… a missing piece, an answer; something she needed to truly close the book. She was almost there.

The locker closed with a metallic bang and Sharon turned around. She switched off the light as she left and crossed the hallway to where the rest of her team was waiting. She could sense their anticipation, the rush everyone experienced when they were about to do something this big. It wasn't without danger and it wasn't without threat. As she reached the rest of her division and Tao pressed the button for the elevator, Sharon looked at their faces, held their gazes, and then she said, "I want each and every one of you to come home safe."

~()~

The pieces started falling into place when she was sitting across from Wildred Darnell in the interview room. Years of experience had taught Sharon that asking questions was one way of getting information, but it was just as important to already know some of the answers before asking them. And asking Wildred Darnell to reveal the identity of Dwight's father had proven to be difficult but Sharon had eventually fitted the pieces together. By the time she looked into the eyes of the woman she felt a strange kinship with, she already knew.

What she didn't know was the true extent of Wildred Darnell's grief and loss. Perhaps she had not been paying enough attention or maybe Wildred Darnell had just not been aware herself but it wasn't until Sharon heard her talk to Martin Borja that she heard the echo of bitterness in her voice. She heard the grief and the devastation as a mother looked at the man responsible for the death of her son, their son. Martin Borja was more responsible for Dwight's death than Sharon was. A father had sold out his own child; a child he had never truly recognised, a child who had fallen into the hands of a gang who hated men like his father.

Sharon still meant what she'd said to Wildred Darnell; that this might have ended differently if Dwight had only known the truth. But no words could change the outcome of what had happened. Taylor was still dead. Several other people were still dead. Nothing could change that.

Seeing Wildred grab the gun from Martin Borja's drawer chilled Sharon to the bone but she also realised Wildred had to have known it was there. Had she planned this all along or was this the raw and pure pain she felt in that moment that made her do this? The first shot rang out and Sharon jumped a little. By the time the second, third and fourth rang out, she knew it was too late. Shots five and six… they weren't even necessary but Wildred fired anyway. There, enlarged on the big screen, his eyes wide open and blood across his face, lay Martin Borja. How the mighty had fallen.

Sharon's heart ached for Wildred. She had lost everything; some would say she lost her child years ago, to the gang, but in that moment, when she heard the man she still loved confess to having set up the crime that killed their son, she lost him all over again. The man she loved had killed their child and in that moment Wildred Darnell wasn't the mother who had grown to accept the mistakes her child had made; she had become the fierce lioness that resided in every mother that roared its head when their child was threatened. She did what her instinct told her to do, what she felt was the only way for her to react, and Sharon cradled her head in her hands as around her people kicked into action. Moments later, the media room was empty and Sharon found herself alone.

The feed had not yet cut out and she saw and heard Mike and Detective Nolan talk to Wildred. Her hands were cuffed behind her back and the rest of the team had filled into the room and were talking and making preparations to seal off the crime scene. From where she sat Sharon watched as Amy approached and it took her a few seconds to realise Amy was wearing a body camera too. The feed turned into a split screen and Sharon got to see Wildred's face.

Blank, emotionless eyes stared into the distance. Sharon shivered when she saw the blood spatter on the blonde woman's face. Without realising it, Sharon touched her own forehead and chin. Days earlier, Dwight Darnell's blood had splattered on her face in almost the exact same way. The resemblance as she looked up to Wildred Darnell was striking.

Shots fired for different reasons. Lives ended for different reasons. Lives changed…. Forever.

Sharon knew Provenza was wrong. This really wasn't better.

~()~

Sharon rounded the corner after leaving the interview room but froze in her step when she realised what moment she had walked in on. She took a few steps back, out of the vision of the three people in the hallway, and felt her chest ache as she watched the heart breaking goodbye between Julio and Mark unfold. Tears stung behind her eyes when Mark gave Julio the book "Make Way for Ducklings" and insisted he keep it.

"I already have the bike helmet. You keep the book."

Sharon waited until the elevator doors had closed before slowly walking towards Julio. Not many people got to see the soft, emotional side of the tough detective but Sharon had gotten to know Julio and his heart was in the right place. Seeing him this hurt was devastating and Sharon, remembering the feeling she got when faced with the possibility of losing Rusty, knew how he felt. But unlike her, Julio actually had to let Mark go.

"Julio?" she asked softly and he lifted his head from his hands. Dark eyes swam with tears.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Sharon apologised. "But what you did for Mark, he will carry that with him for the rest of his life. The time he spent with you will shape and change him, will help him grow to become a different and better person." She fixed the detective with an intense but kind and understanding stare. "Please don't let this deter you from opening your heart to another child, Julio. There are an awful lot of Marks out there that really need someone like you."

Julio battled to keep his tears at bay but a few slid down his cheeks anyway. "I just wanted the best for him," he said. "With the start he had…"

"He got the best for a little while," Sharon reassured him. Green eyes reflected understanding and kindness. "And another child will too one day."

"Thank you," Julio answered. "Thank you, Captain."

"No need to thank me," Sharon said, a hint of pride evident in her voice. "You did this one all on your own."

Walking into the Murder Room and seeing Amy and Nolan take the pictures off the board felt like a relief. They finally got to grieve the loss of their friends. The atmosphere was relaxed, for the first time in days, and Sharon felt a sense of pride at what they had accomplished despite the pressure they had been under. But at the same time, a sense of worry crept up on her when she noticed the pained expression on Andy's face. He tried to brush it off, laughed it off even, but mere seconds later, Sharon was on her knees beside him as Fritz called for an ambulance.

The hours that came next went by in a blur. She remembered the ride in the ambulance, pushed against the wall as the EMT worked tirelessly on Andy. Seeing his shirt ripped open and electrodes attached to his chest, the way the monitor beeped softly but then let out a piercing high pitched beep when it flat lined. Never before had Sharon felt as scared as the moment when the paramedic began performing CPR and shouted at his partner driving, "I'm losing him!"

She collapsed into a chair in the Emergency Room as two doctors and three nurses rushed out to meet the ambulance. She looked on as one of the nurses rode on top of the stretcher having taken over the CPR from the EMT. People were shouting and yelling, an alarm was going off in the distance, and then the stretcher with Andy disappeared into a side room and Sharon found herself completely and utterly alone.

She only realised someone had sat down next to her when she felt a hand on her arm and Sharon looked up. Provenza had sat in the chair next to hers. He looked solemn. "Do you know anything?"

She shook her head. "They rushed him into a room and I haven't seen or heard anything since." Her voice cracked. "He flatlined in the ambulance."

Provenza's eyes widened. "So it's his heart?"

"I don't know." Sharon shook her head. She looked lost and stared down at her hands. "I don't know."

Provenza leaned back in the uncomfortable chair. He hated hospital waiting rooms. Hardly anything good ever came from sitting in one. "This is one messed up day." Sharon gave him a sideways glance. Provenza's face had darkened. "First Buzz and Julio, now this."

"What happened with Buzz? Didn't you make the arrest?" she wanted to know.

"Oh, we made the arrest," Provenza sighed. He didn't look at Sharon and focused on an ugly stain on the ceiling instead. "It just wasn't what Buzz expected." There was a pause. "I don't think it was what anyone expected."

Sharon frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Billy Jones wasn't the kind of person Buzz expected to find," Provenza answered. "He wasn't a career criminal like Hecht. He'd turned his life around; he's married and he has two kids. He had moved on from his past. I don't think he ever expected it to catch up with him anymore. The boy is the same age Buzz was when his father was murdered."

Sharon's eyes widened. "Oh, poor Buzz." The images formed in her head as she slowly began to understand what had happened. Her face fell. "In his mind he left another boy without a father." She sighed. She knew that was not something Buzz had ever expected to happen. "Sometimes finding answers doesn't make things better but we are still meant to find them."

She'd seen how this journey had affected Buzz, even if he had been reluctant to show it sometimes. His enthusiasm hadn't been the same as Rusty's, Buzz was far more reserved, but she felt a sense of relief that he had finally found the answers he needed, even if it meant that now he had to face something even harder; guilt.

She was about to say something else when she saw the doctor emerge from the room they'd taken Andy into. He wore dark green scrubs and his dark hair was brushed back. He didn't approach them but stood in the middle of the waiting room instead, looking around.

"Relatives of Andy Flynn?" he asked, looking at no one in particular.

Provenza heard something in the doctor's voice he couldn't quite identify. He looked at Sharon and she looked back at him. He didn't know if she'd heard it too but his hand found hers and he gave it a soft squeeze before looking back at the doctor.

"We are," he said and stood up.

Sharon didn't move and he looked back at her, then reached for her arm to gently pull her to her feet. She seemed startled for a moment but then stood up.

The doctor approached them now and when he reached them he looked from Provenza to Sharon and back. His face still showed nothing. "Come with me," he said. "We need to talk."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary:** Missing scenes from the episode White Lies prt 2, focusing on Sharon's confession and her dealing with her emotions in the aftermath of the shooting. (spoilers for 5x11 5x12 and 5x13)

 **Rating:** K+

 **Disclaimer:** I do not own Major Crimes or any of its characters.

 **Note:** My apologies for this one being so late. Just one last missing scene to add. Thank you all for reading and your kind reviews!

* * *

 **Epilogue**

Sharon set at the end of the bed, The plain black lace up boots stood on the floor and she had been about to slip her feet into them when, in an unguarded moment, a memory got the better of her and her mind drifted off. For a few moments, the sounds of voices were pushed to the background and, whilst lost in thought, Sharon didn't notice the figure appearing in the bedroom doorway.

"Sharon?" The door was pushed open a little further. The light that fell into the room caused the brunette to look up.

Sharon's eyes took in the dark clad person in the doorway. "Brenda."

Brenda's hair was pulled back into a neat, tidy bun in the back of her neck and she wore a simple yet elegant black dress. Her black sunglasses were tucked into the small side pocket and she wore a pair of elegant black pumps with a strap across the ankle. A fine silver necklace dangled down across the front of the dress.

"How are you holdin' up?" Brenda softly inquired.

Sharon thought about the answer for a moment. What could she possibly say? She was preparing for a funeral… The funeral of a man who had been part of her life for quite some time. A man who had died in a way she didn't wish upon anyone. She swallowed hard and looked down at her hands. She felt empty and helpless.

"I don't know," she confessed, then peered up at Brenda through her eye lashes. The blonde former Chief was the last person she had expected to see today but Brenda had told her that she knew this was the place she had to be today. She'd flown in from Washington the day before.

"It's what he would have wanted," was what she said when Sharon had answered the door and saw her standing next to Fritz. She had stepped into the condo and hugged Sharon in the way old friends did.

Footsteps approached and Brenda moved aside to let Rusty into his mother's bedroom. When Sharon saw him she was once again struck by how grown up he looked in his suit. Provenza had helped him with his tie. Sharon had lost count of the amount of times she had felt he was still too young for this, but then she remembered everything else he had already been through and he had been too young for all of those things too. It just wasn't fair.

"Amy asked me to let you know that it's almost time to go," Rusty said. There was a hint of sadness in his voice. He stood close to Brenda and then, unexpectedly, he said, "He would be so proud of you today, Mom."

Tears stung behind Sharon's eyes as she looked up at her son. He had seen her cry a lot over the last few days and she no longer hid her emotions from him. He had been her rock in so many ways and it made her feel guilty at times. But Rusty had been incredibly strong in the aftermath of the shooting and the events that followed and today he had proven himself even more.

Sharon slipped her feet into her boots and tied the laces, bit back a quiet sob and then stood up. She smoothed out the non-existent creases in her dress uniform, made sure her hair was still in place in the bun in the back of her neck and avoided looking in the mirror as she filed past Rusty and Brenda out of the bedroom and into the hallway. The sound of voices intensified but when she rounded the corner into the living room, everyone fell silent. She could feel their eyes on her.

"It's time," said Provenza. He too wore his uniform and he briefly looked at Sharon, saw the dark circles around her eyes. She saw the extra lines across his face. The last week had aged both of them. He took a step towards Sharon and put a hand on her arm. "You know Andy would be here if he could."

"I know," Sharon said. "It just makes me sad he doesn't get to say goodbye."

Provenza nodded and then joined the line of people leaving the condo. Sharon was the last one to step outside. She looked back one last time before closing the door behind her, sighing heavily. Nothing would be the same after today.

Everything had changed.


End file.
